


Like Fireflies

by whalegills



Category: Orbiting Human Circus of the Air (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Multi, sorry i tagged leticia theres only a mention of her!, the julian/jacques is really subtle, they chill and talk on the top of the eiffel tower and its romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 04:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11051628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalegills/pseuds/whalegills
Summary: "Do you ever wonder what it might be like?"alternatively titled: jacques has feelings and he doesn't know what to do with them





	Like Fireflies

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at snail420.tumblr.com

"Do you ever wonder what it might be like?"

Jacques and Julian sit, pressed together, on a metal beam near the peak of the Eiffel Tower. When Jacques works night shifts, he typically walks around the ballroom, the inside– anywhere but here.

He shivers, and blames it on the cold rather than the fear coiled in his stomach. If Julian wanted to talk to someone (more specifically, him), couldn't they have talked in a place a little _less_ life-threateningly high off the ground?  
  
"To what?" Jacques chokes out.  
He can see Julian looking him up and down. He's always characterized as idealist, dreamy, dumb– but Jacques knows he's not _dumb_. Even if he's got his head stuck in the clouds, he's got a hell of a way with reading people. With emotions. He knows that Julian knows that he's scared.  
Theres a light, airy smile on his face, like he's trying to teach Jacques how not to be afraid. 

Julian looks up.  
"To float on a cloud." He replies, wistfully.  
Dark grey clouds cover the black sky like patchwork. Even at night, they look soft; pinned in the air by the stars.  
Jacques looks up with him. He can still feel the tight feeling in his stomach, but it's slowly ebbing away. He focuses his attention on the clouds. He doesn't want to admit that he really _is_ thinking about it.  
  
"No," He says, defensive. "Who the hell would think about that?"  
Julian looks just a little crestfallen, and Jacques immediately regrets talking in the first place.  
"Oh..." He falters. "Well, I have."  
Jacques finds it ridiculous that he feels any sort of sympathy for this man. Maybe its the fact that he's scrawny, so fragile– maybe it's a sort of pity? There's something about his voice that just– feels like a warm blanket. Something about him as a person that just feels like a warm blanket. Even up here, so high off the ground he's almost touching the sky, Jacques feels... safe. Somehow.  
He would never admit it out loud, though.

He gives Julian an expectant look, or at least, what he hopes is an expectant look. He hasn't ever been that great at communicating with people.  
Julian's eyes light up again.  
"I think it would be like- like laying in bed, maybe. Y'know, when you have freshly washed sheets and they feel lighter than before because all the dirt is gone? And they smell good– I wonder if clouds would smell good."  
He looks so lost in his own world. It leaves Jacques awestruck, in a strange sort of way, how Julian can find whimsy in everything. How he can find happiness in everything. He continues.  
  
"I heard a story about a boy once– he knew a man who _made_ clouds– and the man was so lonely, because he couldn't share his secret with anyone. No one! except for the boy. The boy would follow him every day, and–"  
Jacques lets himself get swept away- get wrapped up in the warm blanket that was Julian's voice. Something else takes root in his stomach where the fear used to be. Tenderness? Nostalgia? Happiness?  
It's soft and bright, like nothing he's ever felt since he was young. He suddenly regrets not listening to Julian more. He wants to cradle this feeling close to his chest and keep it there, like a firefly cupped in a child's hands.  
It's crazy, and it's dumb, but it's his feeling. He doesn't have to tell anyone else. Not if he doesn't want to.  
Before he knows it, Julian has paused his story, hyperboles, gesticulations, and all, and is looking at him.

Jacques is suddenly very aware of his own body again.

"W-what?" He says.  
Julian just smiles.  
"Oh! Nothing, it's just-" He slips a bout of nervous laughter. "You were staring."  
Jacques looks down at his own fidgeting hands, just to get his eyes off of Julian. He sees the ground below, and immediately looks up again. In a sort of panic, he settles his gaze for the sky.  
  
"Sorry." He says.  
It's a softer sound than anything that's ever come out of his mouth before. It's would be embarrassing, if not for the fact that it's only Julian hearing it.  
Julian, who, surprisingly, touches his arm. He can barely even tell until he looks back down and sees his thin fingers on his sleeve.  
"It's okay." He says.  
Jacques meets his eyes again. He can feel his face burning up. Leticia's comment flashes through his thoughts.  
_"You look at him like your heart beat out of your chest, you know!"_  
He shoves his eyes away again, and shoves the comment back into the recesses of his mind. 

"Kid, can we, uh– go back down the tower?" He forces the words out.  
Julian looks at him quizzically.  
"You don't wanna hear the rest of the story?" He asks.  
"No, no, I do! Promise," He keeps his eyes locked on his own hands. "It's just kinda cold up here, don't'ya think?"  
Julian looks at his own hands, mimicking Jacques.  
"Yeah, it is."  
They sit in an almost-awkward beat of silence.

"Well, after you!" His voice has another little bit of nervous laughter tacked to the end of it.  
Jacques' stomach does nervous flips. He can't tell if the janitor sounds pained, or just awkward.  
"Hey- still wanna hear the rest of the story though. Can we finish it downstairs?" Jacques adds quickly.  
Julian smiles.  
"Of course."


End file.
